Love Me If You Can
by LawliPop
Summary: The only way to mend a broken heart is to fall in love with someone else. [MalikxAnzu, side of BakuraxRyou][AU]
1. Fool of Everyone

_A/N: Welcome to my MalikxAnzu fanfic. Please Read and Review!_

_Warnings: Swearing; mild (if any)shonen-ai._

_Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh!_

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* * *

****Important Characters:**

**Malik Ishtar** - 23 years old; youngest of the Ishtar siblings.

**Bakura Hideyoshi** - 24 years old; Malik's best friend since Jr. High, he's 'in love' with Malik's sister, Isis.

**Mai Kujaku** - 24 years old; friend of Bakura, roommate of Ryou. She is the matchmaker.

**Ryou Tanaka** - 22 years old; café employee studying interior design, roommate of Mai, distant friend of Anzu. Has a crush on- more like an obsession with - Bakura.

**Anzu Mazaki** - 22 years old; friend of Ryou; dreams of becoming a dancer. Has a grudge against men for some unknown reason.

**Mariku Ishtar** - 24 years old; second oldest of the Ishtar siblings. Has a grudge against Malik and is a womanizer.

**Isis Ishtar-Mutou** - 25 years old; eldest Ishtar siblings, married to Atemu Mutou.

**Atemu Mutou** - 25 years old; husband of Isis; childhood friend of Anzu's.

**Rishid** - 30 years old; loyal servant to the Ishtar family. Considered to be their half-brother by Malik and Isis, hated by Mariku.

**Malik's ex-girlfriend** - 23 years old. Her name is currently unknown by all except for Malik, Mariku, and Bakura. Presumably she ran off with Mariku after breaking up with Malik - or maybe she had hooked up with him even before the breakup. She'll be referred to as She/Her.

* * *

_Love Me if You Can_

-Chapter One-

* * *

_"I don't think this is working. We've tried everything to solve our problems, to settle our differences, but it just seems so hopeless."_

_There was a long silence before a curt reply. "What are you saying?"_

_"...I think we should see other people," was the answer to his inquiry. "Of-of course, I still want us to be friends, because I do cherish your friendship more than anything in the world."_

Malik Ishtar snorted, taking a half burned cigarette from his lips and throwing it on the ground, smashing it with his sneaker. He thought back on the day of their breakup, which had been almost two months ago now. "Friendship... what a load of crap," he muttered. He hadn't heard from Her once since that day. After almost two full years of dating they had broken up, and it was as if She had disappeared from the face of the earth.

"Humph... I have no doubt about whom She disappeared _with_," he thought aloud, his lilac orbs narrowing a bit. Coincidentally, he hadn't heard from his older brother Mariku in almost two months now. "Damn bastard always does this. Can't he find a girlfriend of his own, instead of just seducing mine?"

Malik walked down the street, his already dark skin soaking up the crisp, November sun. He stopped moving when he reached the building he had come all the way downtown just to see. It was a tall structure, almost ominous appearing due to the large statues that guarded the premises. It had been who knows how many years since he had last set foot near the place, and was silently questioning whether he had the gall to actually go inside.

Several women dressed in long black gowns and white headdresses looked at him in a disapproving manner as he took a few steps closer to the building. They disliked his baggy clothes, the gaudy gold jewelry adorning his body, and the tattoo on his arm. But being women of God, the only thing they could say to him was: "May the good Lord bless you," and allow him entrance into the Domino Catholic Church.

Malik felt uncomfortable in places that were deemed holy, but still he went inside. He figured it would be good for him to go to reconciliation, so that he could be purged of malicious thoughts such as wanting to murder his elder sibling.

The church was quiet since mass had let out much earlier in the afternoon. The only people inside were the nuns who had followed him, some altar boys, and the priest, whom Malik supposed was back in the confession room. Sure enough there was a light on outside the door, which meant that there was someone inside.

Glancing over his shoulder once to make sure no one was looking, Malik quickly threw opened the door and entered the room. He sat down at the vacant seat next and sighed loudly. The priest was silent, sitting patiently on the opposite side of the room. A dark screen separated them, and the only thing Malik could see through it was the outline of the pastor's body.

Sighing again, Malik clasped his hands together and leaned forward, placing his forehead in his palms. "Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned..." he said slowly, closing his eyes.

The small room was quiet, and Malik figured that the priest was just waiting for him to continue. However, before he could even open his mouth to say something more, there was a small chuckle.

"You bet your ass you have," the man behind the screen agreed.

Before the Egyptian young man could even blink, the screen was pushed roughly aside and he was met with a pair of sardonic brown eyes.

"Tell me, child, what is it you have done?" the brown-eyed man asked sarcastically, a large grin on his pale face.

Malik stood up quickly, his chair falling backwards due to how fast he had risen from it. He waited for his heart rate to slow down back to normal before he looked over at the man sitting on the other side of the room. "B-Bakura..? What are you... what are you _doing_ here?" he yelled.

Bakura Hideyoshi sniggered. "Oh, that was priceless! You jumped, like, ten feet in the air!" he said, slapping his knee. When his friend said nothing, he laughed again. "Come on, Ishtar, don't be such a spoilsport! I think it's cute that you go to confession! Honestly!"

The Egyptian growled lowly. "I don't," he corrected. "This is the first time I've stepped foot inside of a church since Isis made us convert," he explained, noticing his friend sigh happily at the mention of his older sister's name. He rolled his eyes. "I just thought that if I came here, I could get some... spiritual guidance, or something."

"Spiritual guidance," Bakura repeated, a dumbfounded look on his face. "Are you joking? What the hell do you need _spiritual guidance_ for?" he wanted to know, stepping from his side of the room over into the side where Malik was.

"I don't know..." Malik said, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his khaki cargo pants. "I guess to help me get over..."

"Don't even say it," Bakura interrupted him. "Why are you still so upset about that hoe, anyways? It happened so long ago. Move on with your life already. Find some other chick."

"It isn't that simple..."

"What's not simple about it? It isn't as though you have a hard time attracting women. They're always hanging off you whenever we go clubbing," the brown-eyed man said, brushing some of his unruly silver-white hair over his shoulder. "Look, if you're not interested in a long lasting relationship so soon, then just hook do it with some hottie at the bar and then leave by morning. That's what I do."

Malik could only shake his head at his friend. It amazed him to no end how little respect his best friend had for women. Well, for most women, at least. There were some that he acted gentlemanly towards, but not many. "And you wanted me to set you up with Isis," he said, letting out a small laugh.

Bakura huffed and reached into his back pocket and took out a cigarette, raising it to his lips and then searching his clothes for a lighter. "I don't get you, man," he mumbled.

Malik rolled his eyes and snatched the cigarette from between his lips. "You're in a church, you idiot. Try to be _a little_ reverent." He exhaled. "So what are you doing here, anyways?" he wondered, glancing questioningly at the other.

The white-haired man lifted Malik's fallen chair and sat down so that he was straddling it, looking up at his friend. He shrugged. "I don't know. I was bored this afternoon. I had eaten lunch at that yummy café Ryou works at, and I asked him if he had seen you at all today – he got quite offended when I asked him, by the way. You should have seen it, he got all jealous and shit; it was so funny. His face was, like, pink with rage." He stopped, realizing he had gotten off subject.

"But anyways," he continued, waving his hands, "he said he saw you drive by on your motorcycle a few minutes before I came in, and said it looked like you were headed downtown. So, after eating, I went downtown and saw your bike parked near this church. I went in and, sure enough, you came straight to me." He smirked. "And now I am here to be your knight in shining armor…. I will rescue you from this self-destructive depression by taking you woman-hunting!"

Malik didn't look as excited as Bakura appeared to be with the idea. "'Kura… I'm not exactly in the mood to go 'woman-hunting'. If you don't mind, I just want to go home."

Bakura stood up quickly. "No way. I got up off my ass - on a perfectly good Sunday where I could have lazed in front of the television like I usually do - and dragged myself all the way downtown just to find you. I am not letting you escape from me this easily, Malik Ishtar." He grabbed the blonde's arm and dragged him out of the confession room in the direction of the church's exit. "If you don't want to go woman hunting, then fine, we won't go. But you're coming with me to do my grocery shopping."

"Why do I have to go grocery shopping with you?" The Egyptian asked once they had left the church and were back out on the streets of Downtown Domino.

"Because I get _lonely_," the brown-eyed man explained, wrapping his arm's around Malik's neck.

"Get off." Malik growled, pushing his white-haired off of him.

"Fine… meanie." Bakura sniffed indignantly and turned his head away. "all right, well, I have my car so you just follow me to the grocery store." He waved goodbye and wandered over to the blue mini cooper which was sat illegally in a 'No-Parking' zone. He grinned, quite relieved to see that no cop had driven by and towed his car, and entered the vehicle. He started the car and pulled off into traffic, checking his rearview mirror every few seconds to see if Malik was following him or not.

Malik sighed, not really knowing why he was accompanying Bakura to the store. He figured he was going out of pity. Maybe because of boredom, even. Really, what else was he supposed to do on Sunday? He didn't have to work at the museum, and he no longer had a girlfriend whom he could surprise with a visit. There were no other options left besides following his best friend around town like the loser with no life that he was.

* * *

"Aah, Publix. Shopping really _is_ a pleasure here," Bakura said as he pushed his metal cart down the cereal aisle. 

Malik was walking beside him, his lilac orbs scanning the list of items needed. He raised an eyebrow as he read. "This is your grocery list? Bakura, this is all junk." He held up the list, " "_Oreo O's, Oreos, Chips Ahoy, Eggo Waffles, Toaster Strudels."_ …The only healthy thing you have on here is steak." He wrinkled his nose.

Bakura grinned, snatching the piece of paper out of his friend's grasp. "Hey, I never said you had to eat over at my place, you tree hugger," he snapped. "Which reminds me, I need milk. Come on… dairy products are this way."

"I think I know my way around Publix," Malik grumbled.

"Yeah, but do you even eat dairy?"

"Yes, I eat dairy. I just don't eat meat and fish."

Bakura snorted, brushing his hair out of his eyes. "I don't get you, man. How can someone not like meat? It's just so good, especially when it's rare and bloody." He licked his lips, becoming hungry at the thought.

The Egyptian frowned. "Just stop talking. You're giving me a stomachache." He grabbed a carton of milk from the nearest shelf and placed it in the buggy. "What else do you need? I want to hurry up and get out of--" he stopped mid-sentence, the words having been swiped from his mind as his attention was turned to something far more interesting than their discussion.

The brown-eyed man blinked. "What's your problem?" he asked, waving a hand in front of his friend's face. He growled when his question fell on deaf ears, and followed Malik's gaze to what had captured his interest. A large grin plastered itself on his pale face and he rubbed his hands together. "And you said you didn't want to hunt for women.."

Malik ignored him, continuing to stare at the young woman who was pushing her shopping cart slowly down the dairy aisle. Her chocolate brown hair was pulled up neatly in a claw clip so that it couldn't fall into her face. Her bright azure eyes thoughtfully scanned the rows of cheese and yogurts as she passed them. She stopped suddenly to grab something that she needed and place it in her cart, then crossing that item off of the small list in her right hand.

"Psst! No wedding ring. I repeat, no wedding ring!" Bakura whispered into his ear, shaking his friend's shoulders slightly.

"Get off of me," Malik hissed.

Bakura straightened himself. "Go talk to her. Introduce yourself or something."

"And what am I supposed to say? 'Hey, I was just walking down the aisle with my friend when I noticed that you looked exceptionally pretty standing next to that stand of English Muffins.' I don't think so. Let's go." Without waiting for a response, he put his hands in his pockets and walked away. He looked at the woman as he passed her, but she seemed to take no notice of his presence. Of course now he would be pestered by his best friend about not talking to her, but he didn't care.

_'It's just… too soon still. Although She really didn't love me, I still loved Her and it won't be so easy for me to just forget Her and move on. As much as I would like a new love in my life, I'm not ready for another girlfriend, another commitment.'_ He sighed loudly. _'I don't know what to do… This is so stupid of me to be thinking this way. I mean, I hate my ex-girlfriend for using me like She did, so why the hell is it so hard for me to get over Her? Why the hell am I still so in love with Her?'_

"Hey, Ishtar."

Malik groaned as a response. "Is there something wrong with me?" he asked Bakura, keeping his eyes averted to the floor.

Bakura was a little surprised by the question. He shook his head. "No, man. There's nothing wrong with you. You're just a normal guy who got his heart broken. It's perfectly fine to feel the way you're feeling right now. Sorry if I've been, well, pressuring you to find a new girl. I just hate to see you in this depression, you know? You're my best friend." When receiving a nod, he smiled. "Don't worry so much. Time heals all things."

"Wow, Bakura… that was impressively insightful and deep for you."

The white-haired young man shrugged his shoulders. "I suppose I've been hanging around Ryou for so long that he's beginning to rub off on me." He shook his head. "Or maybe I've just watched too many sappy movies," he added as an afterthought before proceeding to the check out. "In any case, don't worry about it. Things will work out in the end for -- Plastic, you idiot!" He snapped at the bag boy. "You bag my groceries every fucking week; how the hell do you not know the answer to that question?"

The young teenager blanched and nodded his head quickly, taking out a plastic bag and shoving the box of _Oreo O's_ inside of it, followed by the other items the frightening white-haired man had purchased.

Bakura snatched the bags from the bag boy and sauntered towards the exit of the store. "Honestly," he said to Malik, "What kind of people do they hire at these places? I feel like I'm surrounded by incompetent morons every time I enter this Goddamned grocery store. I've changed my mind; shopping is _not _a pleasure here anymore."

Malik rolled his eyes. "Can I go home now?" he asked, becoming bored with his best friend's attitude. Sure, he loved Bakura like a brother - probably more than he loved his own brother, at the moment - but that didn't mean he had to put up with the other's anger issues all the time. He didn't wait for Bakura to respond. He just hopped onto his bike and placed his helmet on. "I'll see you later," he promised, flipping the kickstand up and starting the engine.

Bakura nodded, watching him leave the parking lot. He opened the trunk of his car and placed the grocery bags inside before he too left. He went in the opposite direction as Malik, deciding to make a small stop on his way back home. Being the surprisingly good friend that he was, he decided that he would help his Egyptian friend get over his ex-girlfriend. And the only way to do that was to have Malik fall in love with another woman. Thankfully he knew just the person who would be able to find Malik the perfect girl; Ryou's roommate and close friend, the aspiring model, Mai Kujaku.

* * *

"So you want me to set him up on a blind date?" 

The blonde-haired, violet-eyed Mai Kujaku lounged back on the couch in the living room of the spacious Tanaka-Kujaku apartment. Across from her, seated comfortably on a black leather recliner chair, was Bakura. He had his bare feet propped up on the glass coffee table and his arms stretched out behind his head. He nodded to her question, his narrow brown eyes slipping closed for a moment.

"Precisely," he said. "You know the name, number, and address of almost every person in this city. If there's anyone who can find Malik a decent chick, it's you."

Mai looked flattered. She tossed a strand of rebellious hair out of her face and smiled. "Well, I do know quite a few women who are currently looking for a nice guy to settle down with. However, Malik needs someone different. Someone he won't easily get bored with; someone that will put up a small fight… you know, the 'hard to get', 'love me if you can' type," she explained.

"Who do you have in mind?"

Mai glanced over at Ryou, who was over in the kitchen making tea for himself and Bakura. "Hun," she called out to him, catching his attention rather quickly, "do you still have your old high school yearbook?" she asked.

Ryou blinked, pursing his lips as he thought for a moment. "I believe so. Why?"

"I need to see it real quick… I want to show Bakura the girl I'm setting Malik up with."

A look of understanding came across Ryou's face and he smiled. "Oh, all right." He walked out of the kitchen and down the hall, entering his bedroom for a moment and then coming back out with a large book in his hands. "Here you are," he said to Mai. "Take it, it's heavy." He handed her the yearbook and then wandered back into the kitchen to get the tea.

Mai flipped through the yearbook, stopping only when she came to the senior pages. She pointed to a specific photo on the page; it was of a girl with ocean blue eyes and shoulder-length brown hair that was tied back from her face by a ribbon that perfectly matched her pink uniform top. Her smile was bright and toothy, and her face glowed with happiness.

"Her name is Anzu Mazaki," Mai explained. "I used to take a dance class with her until I started becoming serious about a modeling career. We still keep in touch. She's also good friends with Isis' husband." She stopped, seeing the scowl that appeared on the white-haired man's face. She chuckled. "Stop sulking, loser. You had no chance with her even before Atemu came along," she told him. "Now, back to Anzu. She's the same age as Ryou, and attends the same college as he does. I'm sure that he can talk to her and see what day she's free for a date."

Ryou nodded his head, taking a seat on the couch next to Mai. He handed a cup of tea to Bakura, who took it wordlessly. "I can do that," he said. "I see her almost every day. The only thing is…" he stopped, looking down at the drink in his hands. "She's never said anything about wanting a boyfriend. She never dated anyone in high school, not to my knowledge, at least. She said that she thought of all the guys as immature pigs; for what reason I have no idea. I don't think her opinion of men has changed any since that time.

Bakura frowned and then looked at Mai. "Why do you have to pick someone difficult, huh? Malik just needs a rebound girlfriend, not some hard to please hater of men."

"Malik needs more than a rebound girlfriend, he needs someone to actually love him. And Anzu isn't a hater of men. I'm sure she has her reasons for not dating before, but I think it's time for her to put those reasons behind her and move on because, well, she isn't getting any younger."

Ryou looked offended by the comment. "Are you saying she's old? Because then you're saying _I'm_ old. And, need I remind you, you are three years our senior," he said, taking a sip of his tea,

"Frowning like that will give you wrinkles," Mai snapped, glaring threateningly over at Ryou. She hated when he compared their ages.

Ryou stood up and quickly ran over to the recliner where Bakura sat. He quickly ducked behind the chair, wrapping his arms around Bakura's neck for protection. "Baku-chan, do I look old?" he asked, trying to prove his blonde-haired friend wrong.

Bakura snorted, pushing Ryou away. "Lay off; you look fine." He glanced back at Mai. "So you think that he'll like her?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. At this time, he honestly had no clue what his best friend wanted. Malik seemed displeased with every woman he came across, all because he was still grieving over Her. However…

_'It's time for that to change. Malik needs to move on. It upsets me to see him this way. As much as I hate to admit it, he means a lot to me… I don't want him to hurt any longer. The only way to mend a broken heart is to fall in love with someone else, someone who is faithful and trustworthy. Malik not only needs someone who will love him, but he needs someone who will stand by him no matter what.'_

Bakura glanced down at the picture of the young girl in the yearbook. His brown eyes narrowed slightly and he placed his chin in his hands thoughtfully. _'Can you be the one to bethere for him, Anzu Mazaki?'_

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_A/N: And this ends Chapter One. Please review? _


	2. Not Okay

_A/N: A special thank you to everyone who reviewed! Honestly, I didn't expect to get reviews on thissince MalikxAnzu isn't a very popular coupling..so I am SO HAPPY that I received such great reviews! Normally I would answer each review, but I heard a rumor that ff . net has a new rule that forbids authors/authoresses from replying to their reviews in a chapter..and I really didn't want to risk this fanfic being deleated. So please just know that I read all the reviews and I greatly appreciate all of them! Thank you very much! _

_A/N: To all those wondering if Her identity will ever be revealed... the answer is YES, Her identity is revealed later on. You're welcome to guess who you think it is... but I doubt many people will get it right. ;P On a parting note, people seem to have liked the way I made Bakura's character! I'm glad; I tried to make him funny on purpose, because I believe he'd be that sort of a guy if he wasn't an ancient, power-hungry evil spirit. Okay,that's all I have to say. Please Read and Review!_

_Warnings: Swearing, AU, and mild (if any) shonen-ai._

_Disclaimer: Must I repeat myself? I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh!

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**Important Characters:**_

_**Malik Ishtar** - 23 years old; youngest of the Ishtar siblings._

_**Bakura Hideyoshi** - 24 years old; Malik's best friend since Jr. High, he's 'in love' with Malik's sister, Isis._

_**Mai Kujaku** - 24 years old; friend of Bakura, roommate of Ryou. She is the matchmaker._

_**Ryou Tanaka** - 22 years old; café employee studying interior design, roommate of Mai, distant friend of Anzu. Has a crush on- more like an obsession with - Bakura._

_**Anzu Mazaki** - 22 years old; friend of Ryou; dreams of becoming a dancer. Has a grudge against men for some unknown reason._

_**Mariku Ishtar** - 24 years old; second oldest of the Ishtar siblings. Has a grudge against Malik and is a womanizer._

_**Isis Ishtar-Mutou** - 25 years old; eldest of theIshtar siblings, married to Atemu Mutou._

_**Atemu Mutou** - 25 years old; husband of Isis; childhood friend of Anzu's._

_**Rishid** - 30 years old; loyal servant to the Ishtar family. Considered to be their half-brother by Malik and Isis, hated by Mariku._

_**Malik's ex-girlfriend** - 23 years old. Her name is currently unknown by all except for Malik, Mariku, and Bakura. Presumably she ran off with Mariku after breaking up with Malik - or maybe she had hooked up with him even before the breakup. She'll be referred to as She/Her._

* * *

___Love Me if You Can_

**-Chapter Two-**

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* * *

**

"... Bakura, what is this all about?"

Malik stood behind the counter of his home's kitchen, staring at his best friend with bored lilac eyes. It was Monday evening and he was in the middle of cleaning up his house before his guests – his sister and his brother-in-law – arrived for coffee.

Bakura was leaning against the opposite side of the counter, absently swirling a drink Malik had given him with his index finger. He closed his eyes and turned to face the Egyptian directly, a frown appearing on his face. "All right... But before I tell you, just say yes."

"What?"

"Just say yes," Bakura repeated. "It will make things easier for the both of us."

The blonde-haired man looked confused. He shook his head and sighed "Fine. Yes. Now what is this all about?" he asked again.

Bakura propped himself up on the counter, swinging his legs back and forth. "I was terribly worried about you yesterday; you're acting less and less like yourself and it just isn't pleasant to be around you anymore. So I decided that, if you are so unwilling to get over Her, I will simply take matters into my own hands. And I did. I went over to Ryou's after leaving the grocery store and talked out a plan with Mai Kujaku."

Malik scowled, already knowing what was going on just by hearing the name of the violet-eyed model. "Bakura, you didn't," he said angrily, stalking over to his friend. When Bakura only grinned slyly, he growled. "I specifically told you that I wasn't ready for a new girlfriend, which is exactly why I always turn down your offers to 'woman hunt' and every other stupid idea that you come up with!"

The white-haired man was unaffected by his friend's reaction. He took a sip of his drink slowly and then looked lazily back at the blonde. "You're not ready. That's always your excuse, Ishtar; 'I'm not ready' and 'It's too soon'. Well you know what I think?" he asked, pinning Malik with a snide glare.

"I think you're just scared of commitment. You want a new love, but you're scared; scared that you'll be left all alone again, that you'll be betrayed again. Well listen up, you pansy. I'm sick of you moping around all the time; it's depressing to me and everyone else around you. Your sister and idiot brother-in-law are even worried about you, they've told me so themselves."

"Bakura, I don't need to hear this from you. I know they're worried about me. They are my family, after all. And," he stuffed his hands into his pockets, his lilac eyes narrowing slightly, "it's not as if I _enjoy_ being this way, you know. It's not as if I _like_ being depressed and heartbroken."

"Then why the hell don't you do anything about it?" Bakura asked, his voice rising in anger. He grabbed his friend by the shoulders and shook him. "You just sit around and your house and think about Her. Well She isn't coming back to you, okay? She doesn't love you anymore, and personally I doubt She ever did love you."

"Bakura, stop it," Malik said harshly, placing his hands over Bakura's arms to push him away. It was one thing to criticize him for handling the situation poorly, but it was completely different for Bakura to mock the relationship he had with his ex-girlfriend.

"What's the matter? Can't handle the truth? Don't like being reminded of how each of your girlfriends in the past have all left you for Mariku?" Bakura quipped, smirking.

Before the brown-eyed young man could say anything more, he was knocked off the countertop by a swift punch in the jaw. The glass he had set next to him went crashing to the ground and shattered into hundreds of fragments, its contents spilling onto the tile. He coughed, tasting blood in his mouth, and glared up at the Egyptian standing above him. He deserved the punch, but he was still angry that Malik actually had the nerve to injure him, after how long they had known each other, just because of some stupid remark about Her and Mariku.

The doorbell rang. The two males stayed motionless and stared at each other, angry sparks of electricity passing between their sets furious eyes. Livid lilac clashed with mocking russet in a battle to make the other look away. The war lasted a grand total of three minutes, ending only when the doorbell rang for a second time.

Bakura pulled himself to his feet, rubbing his face and mumbling curses under his breath. Malik left the kitchen, not having anything to say, entering the foyer where his front door was located. The white-haired man followed him, pushing the Egyptian roughly against the wall in order to reach the front door first. He looked at Malik warningly and then reached into his pocket, pulling out a crumbled piece of paper.

"You're meeting her tomorrow at Café Cibo... seven-thirty, casual attire. Don't be late."

And with that said, Bakura threw open the door. Isis Ishtar-Mutou stood outside with her husband and greeted her brother's friend with a warm smile. Bakura bowed respectfully to the young couple, ignoring the jealousy that stirred inside of him at the sight of Isis with Atemu, and began walking briskly away from the home.

"Remember, Ishtar; seven-thirty!"

Bakura disappeared down the sidewalk.

Isis blinked. "What was that about? I don't think I've ever seen Bakura look so angry before... except, perhaps, at my wedding." She chuckled fondly at the memory.

Malik shrugged his shoulders, still in quite a foul mood. "I don't know. But it's not important." He paused and opened the door wider to allow them better entrance. "Please, come inside," he offered, tilting his head downwards humbly.

* * *

Anzu Mazaki glanced momentarily up at the monstrous clock tower which stood proudly in the very center of Domino Square; its large hands proclaiming that it was currently forty-five minutes past eight. _'Ryou's late,'_ she thought to herself, taking in the surroundings. _'That isn't like him. He's usually on time, if not early.'_ She frowned and tapped her foot impatiently against the cement sidewalk. _'I wonder why he needed to meet with me anyways. He said it was important, that in concerned me. What could it be about?'_

She sighed, running a hand through her short brown hair. A small smile appeared on her face when she noticed a familiar young man running towards her. His silver-white hair was tied back into a loose ponytail and he was waving his arms frantically in order to catch her attention.

"Hello, Anzu! Sorry for being late," Ryou apologized immediately after halting in front of her. "I was held up at work. Nikko had to leave early and I had to take over for him. I would have called you but my phone decided to die on me, and my boss won't let me use the café phone anymore because I supposedly 'abused the privilege' when I began calling up Bakura every day. Personally, I think she's just jealous."

Anzu shook her head. "Okay..." She didn't quite know what else to say to that. Indeed, Ryou was an odd character. "So what is it you needed to talk to me about?" she questioned, raising an eyebrow in curiosity.

"Oh! That. Well," The brown-eyed young man grinned. "I've noticed how depressed you've been lately – and before you object to that, yes; I as well as countless others have been able to notice your less-than-cheerful disposition – and I have decided to be a wonderful friend and try to help you get over whatever it is that is causing you to act this way."

Anzu blinked. "Ryou, what are you...?"

Ryou held up a hand to silence her. "Don't ask questions yet. Let me speak. I have also noticed, being the perceptive person that I am, that the bitterness inside of you seems to be directed towards your opposite gender... males. For what reason, I have no idea, and it is none of my business to ask. But perhaps I can help remedy the situation by setting up a casual, care-free night out for you and a good friend of mine. You see, he as well has been suffering through a depression of sorts. I feel you might be good for each other."

"Listen, as much as I appreciate you going through all this trouble, I don't think I need you setting me up on a blind date," Anzu said before he could tell her anything more about this 'solution' to the problem he figured she had. "You were right in saying that it is none of your business to ask what's causing me to feel a certain way towards men... and it is also none of your business to try and remedy, as you call it, the situation."

"But- I-"

"No."

Ryou pouted, crossing his arms over his chest. "It's just one night. It's not as if I'm telling you to enter a romantic relationship with him, I'm just suggesting that you two go out for dinner... say, tomorrow night... seven-thirty, at Café Chibo." He gave her a sly smile and turned around, beginning to walk away.

Anzu's jaw dropped slightly. "Ryou!" she yelled, running after him and grabbing him by the arm. "You already set me up on a date with him?" She growled out of frustration when he made no effort to reply to him. "I can't believe you! What am I supposed to do now?"

Ryou flashed a sweet smile and then began walking away once more. He waved his hand at her as he headed towards a blue mini cooper which was parked a few feet away. "Ta, ta!" he cooed before entering the vehicle, which sped off immediately before the brunette had a chance to see who was sitting behind the steering wheel.

The blue-eyed young woman sighed out of aggravation. _'I can't believe it... but I should have known he'd pull something like this,'_ she thought deprecatingly. _'I swear I can't trust anyone anymore. Why can't people just stay out if my business? Why do they feel the need to fix problems that I don't even have?''_

She placed her hands in the pockets of her coffee-colored coat; frustrated with the world and all of its inhabitants. She didn't know why it upset her so much; she just wished people wouldn't do things behind her back... especially things that concerned _her_ love life.

Without even checking to see if the crosswalk sign was green or not, the brunette made her way across the street. An angry scowl adorned her usually perky face and she ambled on. She had not even taken three steps on the street when she heard the annoyingly loud wailing of a horn which came from the vehicle of a probably impatient, ugly driver.

"Hey watch it!"

Anzu's head jerked quickly to the side when hearing the heavily accented voice yelling at her. She jumped back out of reflex as a sleek red motorcycle screeched to a stop right next to her. She could feel the motorcyclist glaring at her from behind the dark goggles on his helmet but she didn't make any effort to look away or appear, at least, apologetic.

The cyclist hopped off of his bike and removed his helmet, revealing his disgruntled features.

"Are you stupid?" he asked.

Anzu blinked. "Excuse me?"

"Are you stupid?" he repeated loudly. "I could have hit you! You-you could have died!"

"Well maybe you shouldn't drive so close to the sidewalk, moron," Anzu suggested; placing her hands on her hips and pinning him with her poignant azure eyes.

He snorted in indignation. "Well maybe _you_ should look where you're going before you start waltzing down the street, idiot," he countered.

"Waltzing? I was _clearly_ sauntering."

"Well, sorry, but that was a very horrible impersonation of a saunter."

To the brown-haired woman's own surprise, she laughed. After realizing what she had just done she coughed loudly and clasped her hands behind her back. "Sorry," she said; the apology contained no detectable sincerity.

He grinned and nodded his head. "Quite all right. I suppose women just can't help being careless."

"I can say worse things of men."

"I'm very certain that you can." He bit his lip, as if trying to make a difficult decision. "I'm Malik, by the way. Malik Ishtar." He bowed slightly.

The brunette returned the formality. "Anzu Mazaki. It's nice to meet you…I guess."

"I guess..." Malik echoed with a small smile. He grabbed the handles of his motorcycle and resumed his position on the driver seat. "So... where are you headed, Apricot?" he questioned, raising an eyebrow.

Anzu stepped closer to him, admiring his bike absentmindedly. "Home, actually."

Malik sighed. "Oh." He sounded a tad disappointed. "I guess that's where I should be going, too. But I am sort of hungry. Would you like to go and get a bite to eat?"

The young woman shook her head vigorously. "No. I really should be going home," she declined quickly. "Sorry."

"Yeah, no problem. Do you need a ride?"

"I think I can manage on my own," she replied flatly. "But thanks for the offer."

Malik looked to the ground, trying to figure out what he could say to prolong their time together. For whatever reason, he had no clue, but he enjoyed talking with her. Her personality was different than that of other women he had known in his lifetime; he liked it. He opened his mouth to ask her something else, but she spoke first.

"Goodbye."

He nodded his head. "Bye." He then started the engine of his motorcycle and sped off back into the night traffic.

Anzu watched him until his bike vanished out of her field of vision. She pursed her lips and turned on her heel, heading in the opposite direction of Malik and towards her apartment building. She wondered passively if she would ever see Mr. Malik Ishtar again.

* * *

_A/N: Yay, more characters have been introduced... and Malik and Anzu have been introduced to each other! But now what will happen once they find out that they're friends set them up on a date with each other? Abd speaking of the date... how will it turn out? You'll have to wait until chapter three. Sorry. Anyways, I hoped you liked the chapter. I apologize if it was a little bit on the short side, but I havefamily from another country at my house and I've been a little - make that a** lot** - busy. Please review! _


	3. Clumsy

_A/N: Thanks for all the reviews! _

_Warnings: Swearing, AU, and mild (if any) shonen-ai._

_Disclaimer: Must I repeat myself? I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh! _

_

* * *

_**Important Characters:**

**Malik Ishtar** - 23 years old; youngest of the Ishtar siblings.

**Bakura Hideyoshi** - 24 years old; Malik's best friend since Jr. High, he's 'in love' with Malik's sister, Isis.

**Mai Kujaku** - 24 years old; friend of Bakura, roommate of Ryou. She is the matchmaker.

**Ryou Tanaka** - 22 years old; café employee studying interior design, roommate of Mai, distant friend of Anzu. Has a crush on- more like an obsession with - Bakura.

**Anzu Mazaki** - 22 years old; friend of Ryou; dreams of becoming a dancer. Has a grudge against men for some unknown reason.

**Mariku Ishtar** - 24 years old; second oldest of the Ishtar siblings. Has a grudge against Malik and is a womanizer.

**Isis Ishtar-Mutou** - 25 years old; eldest of theIshtar siblings, married to Atemu Mutou.

**Atemu Mutou** - 25 years old; husband of Isis; childhood friend of Anzu's.

**Rishid** - 30 years old; loyal servant to the Ishtar family. Considered to be their half-brother by Malik and Isis, hated by Mariku.

**Malik's ex-girlfriend** - 23 years old. Her name is currently unknown by all except for Malik, Mariku, and Bakura. Presumably she ran off with Mariku after breaking up with Malik - or maybe she had hooked up with him even before the breakup. She'll be referred to as She/Her.

_

* * *

_

_Love Me if You Can_

**-Chapter Three-

* * *

**

Malik Ishtar wasn't one to panic. Normally he was a very calm, cool, and collected individual; however today wasn't a _normal _day, thanks to a certain white-haired friend of his. Instead of going through his usual Tuesday routine of work, shower, dinner at the Mutous, and returning home in order to fall asleep on the floor in front of his television set, Malik would now have to cancel dinner with his sister and brother-in-law so that he could go on a blind date with some woman he didn't even want to know.

'_Stupid Bakura... always thinking he knows what's best for me.'_

The Egyptian sighed and looked at his reflection in full-length mirror attached to the back of his bedroom door. He had just showered several minutes ago and was now trying to figure out what on earth he was supposed to wear. He had never been to the Café Cibo, so he had no idea what kind of clothes he should wear. Should he dress up, or dress down? Bakura had said casual attire would be fine, but Malik didn't want to look _too_ casual. He also didn't want to looktoo formal, because then it would appear as if he wanted to impress the girl who he was going on the date with. And he did want to impress her, just not to the point where it looked as if he cared what she thought of him.

Confused with his own thoughts, Malik entered his closet and began pulling out different sets of shirts and pants. _'Let's see... Purple shirt and black pants? No, too Battle City style._' He wrinkled his noise at the memories. Battle City was a card game competition that he and Bakura had entered back when they were in high school. Practically the whole city had entered the competition, and Malik and Bakura had made it to the finals - only to be brutally beaten by Mariku. He growled and threw the clothes back into his closet.

"Hmm... What else do I have?"

He pulled out a light pink shirt and held it up to his chest, looking at his reflection. Instantly he shook his head in a negative manner. He tossed the shirt aside and grabbed a black sweater that was made of a tight material. "That's manlier," he decided. He placed the shirt on his bed and then ventured back into his closet to find a nice pair of pants to go with it.

After much internal debating, Malik finally chose a pair of loose-fitting khaki cargo pants. He changed hurriedly, also slipping on a pair of leather black boots, and then adorned himself with his traditional gold jewelry in order to complete his outfit. He sprayed on his favorite cologne and observed himself in the mirror once more.

'_I look hot,'_ he thought, grinning. A look of horror suddenly replaced his look of triumph. _'If I don't watch myself, I'll become as conceited as Bakura.'_

Perturbed by the mere idea of turning out like his best friend, Malik tore his eyes off of his reflection and exited his room. Glancing at the clock on the wall as he passed his kitchen, he noticed that he had a half an hour until he had to meet with his mystery date – the supposed answer to all of his love life problems – so he figured that he'd better leave now if he didn't want to be late. He grabbed his set of keys from the counter and snagged a jacket out of the closet before exiting his home and locking the door behind him.

Malik hadn't even walked three steps across the front porch when suddenly his cell phone began vibrating in his side pocket. Grumbling, he took out the phone and flipped it open to reveal the familiar number of the caller. He sighed, having expected the call to come sooner.

"What do you want, Bakura?"

"_Jeez, can't I even get a 'hello' out of you anymore? I mean, the last time we spoke resulted in you punching me in the face... Can't you even ask how my jaw is doing? Don't you even _care_?" _

Malik rolled his eyes, not in the mood for Bakura's joking. "No, I really don't care how your jaw is doing because, frankly, I think you deserved that punch. You should feel glad to know that I held back – I wanted to hurt you much more than I actually did. But back to my question; what do you want?"

Bakura huffed indignantly on the other end_. "You're cruel, Malik Ishtar."_ He paused for a moment and Malik could hear a female voice yelling at him to stop fooling around. _"Okay, okay. Where are you, Malik? Please tell me you've left your house by now."_

"I was just about to leave until _someone_ decided to call and delay me several minutes."

Bakura made some mature spitting noises into the phone. _"Don't blame your tardiness on me, Ishtar. If you weren't so lazy then you would already be at the restaurant." _

The Egyptian male sighed and began walking towards his motorcycle. On the other line his best friend was yakking away, blatantly accusing Malik for all the wrongs in the world. Malik was paying no attention to the words and after hopping on his bike he glared at the screen of the cell phone.

"Bakura, I'm hanging up on you," he declared.

There was a loud gasp. "_Malik Ishtar, don't you dare -"_

Malik cut him off by closing the phone and stuffing it back into his pocket. Checking his watch he saw that it was already seven-thirty; he was officially late and, if this girl was as much of a stickler as his ex-girlfriend, he was also very screwed. He cursed Bakura and started the engine of the motorcycle, peeling quickly out of his driveway and speeding down the street.

* * *

Anzu Mazaki glared down at the plate and the red candle that were set on the table before her. She glanced momentarily at the chair placed opposite of hers, which had been vacant since before her arrival, and then turned her cerulean eyes on the door of the elegantly decorated Café Cibo. Her eyes narrowed, daring someone to walk in the door. No one accepted the challenge; the doors of the restaurant remained closed, and the look on the brunette's face darkened. 

She let out a soft growl under her breath, becoming more and more agitated with each second that ticked by. She checked her watch; it was fifty minutes after seven. He was twenty minutes late, and she was _not_ happy about it.

'_He stood me up,'_ she concluded. One of her hands balled into a tight fist at the thought. _'He stood me up; I just know it. How dare he? After Ryou went through all this trouble to set us up on this stupid date... Who the heck does this man think he is, deciding to just not show up?' _

After neatly folding her napkin, Anzu removed it from her lap and placed it over her dinner plate. She rose from the table, fully intent on leaving, and then noticed the door open from the corner of her eyes. She stood next to the small table, her ocean-blue eyes staring at a young man calculatingly as he entered the restaurant and stopped at the hostess' desk.

She swallowed, feeling a lump form in her throat. No way could _he_ be her blind date. It was just not plausible. She had just met him yesterday by fluke. She thought that she would never see him again. And yet there he stood, taking directions from the hostess as to what table to sit at. The hostess let out a small giggle, and then pointed to the very table where Anzu sat.

Anzu immediately sat back down in her chair and turned her head away, trying to make it seem as if she had not been watching him. Straining her ears, she could faintly pick up the sound of his heavy footsteps as he neared the table.

"We meet again."

The brunette turned her steely-blue gaze on him. "It appears so," she said in a monotone voice.

Malik Ishtar offered a friendly smile and took a seat in the chair opposite of Anzu's. He unfolded the napkin which was placed on the plate before him and put it in his lap, and then allowed his lilac orbs to roam across the restaurant. "This place is nice," he commented to himself, letting out a low whistle.

Anzu took a sip of her drink. She kept her eyes on him discretely, trying to figure out how Malik Ishtar could possibly be her blind date. It was too weird to be just a coincidence. Maybe if she had never met him before, but she had seen him two times in the last two days – first at the grocery store (yes, she had seen him and had chosen to ignore him and his odd friend) and then yesterday evening on her way home – and now this?

What, was he _stalking_ her?

She wouldn't put it past him. He was a man, after all.

Malik's voice broke her train of thought.

"Did you order yet?"

Anzu's gaze shifted to the menu which sat innocently to the left of her plate. She shook her head negatively. "No," she told him. "I thought it would be rude to order before my date arrived. I did get a drink, though," she paused to motion to her glass of iced tea. "I hope that's okay."

Malik shrugged his shoulders. "That's fine."

He opened his menu and began scanning the different items listed. The brunette across from him busied herself with examining her fingernails. An uncomfortable silence settled between them, causing both adults to stay still and quiet. There were many thoughts bouncing around in Anzu's mind, all of which concerned the blonde-haired man before her, which caused her to take no notice of what he was doing. And as for Malik, he was absorbed in his menu.

A waitress came to take their entrée orders. She smiled at them both politely, and questioned: "What can I get you?"

Malik nodded at the waitress and closed his menu. "I'll have the vegetarian special," he announced.

Out of the corner of his eye he noticed Anzu giving him an odd look, which caused him to raise a thin brow in query. She merely ignored the action and told the waitress that she would have the same thing. The waitress wrote the orders down and took their menus before disappearing into the kitchen.

Once she was out of earshot, Anzu turned her azure eyes on the Egyptian. "Are you stalking me?" she asked suddenly.

Malik, who had been taking a sip from his glass of water, nearly spit the drink back out into the cup. He coughed several times and then wiped his chin with the back of his hand. His lilac orbs swiveled over and locked on her narrowed azure eyes, and there was an incredulous look on his face. _"What?"_ he sputtered.

"Are you stalking me?" she repeated nonchalantly. "It's a simple question, which should only derive a simple 'yes' or 'no' answer."

"_No_! Why would I be _stalking_ you?" Malik wanted to know.

Tearing her eyes away from his, Anzu crossed her legs under the table and purposely hit his shin with the sharp heel of her shoes. He made a small noise of protest and she smirked. "I don't know. I've been running into you constantly the past few days, and now here you're pretending to be a vegetarian so you can order the same meal as me? It just sounds like something a stalker would do."

Malik appeared offended by these statements, and he proved his anger by slamming his fist down on the table. The silver wear and water glasses rattled in objection and several drops of Anzu's iced tea spilled onto the tablecloth. "I am not a stalker," he said through clenched teeth.

The elderly couple sitting behind the pair exchanged looks, which only caused the Egyptian male to become more upset.

"Listen, I don't know what ideas about me you've got stuck in your head but, please, forget them. You're getting me all wrong," Malik told her, trying to calm himself back down. He removed his hand from the table and placed it in his lap. "I didn't even set this date up. My idiot friends thought that setting me up on a date would solve my problems."

"So you have problems? What are they, mental problems?" Anzu quipped, grinning. Oh, she was having so much fun. She rather enjoyed teasing Malik – the young man got offended so easily. Perhaps this date wouldn't end up so horrible, after all.

Malik bristled, his fingers curling into his palms. "No," he grit out. "Though I think you might have some," he added, noticing the large grin that was now on her face. "I thought you were angry?"

"Oh, I am. I'm just having so much fun teasing you that I can't help but smile," she said to explain herself.

"Grand."

The Egyptian male pushed his chair backwards, not caring how much noise the legs of the chair made as they scraped against the marble floor of the restaurant, and rose from his seat.

Anzu's eyes narrowed slightly as she noticed this. "Where do you think you're going?" she snapped, reaching out and taking tight hold of his hand.

"Leaving," he said, fighting to free his hand from her surprisingly strong grip. "It was a huge mistake to come here... I don't know what possessed me to listen to Bakura."

"You can't leave," The brunette hissed. "You're paying tonight, so sit back down and stop complaining. Honestly, I've never met someone as humorless as you. I'm just joking, okay? Gosh, you're behaving like a teenaged girl. Stop getting so offended." She released his hand and watched as he stood there with a somewhat bewildered expression on his tanned face. Folding her arms across her chest, she gazed at him expectantly and then commanded once more, this time in a much more stern voice, "sit."

Malik did as told and slipped wordlessly into his chair, taking his napkin back as Anzu handed it to him. He glanced around Café Cibo uncomfortably, wondering what he should do now. Anzu most likely viewed him as a grouch and a wimp, so he had no idea how to get her to see what he was really like – not that he really wanted to, actually. After meeting her like this he concluded that she was an absolute nightmare and that he had no intention of developing a deeper relationship with someone so unbearable.

"It's no wonder she's still single," he murmured under his breath.

That _had_ to be the reason. Anzu was a cute girl – not super-model beautiful, just average with a sort of natural glow that made her appealing to others. She could easily get guys to fall for her based on her looks, that Malik was sure; heck, when he first saw her at the grocery store he had felt a sure attraction.

The problem lay solely in her mouth. It was, by all means, a pleasant mouth to look at – Anzu had nice, full lips that which were the color of peaches, and which curved gracefully when she spoke or, on rare occasions, smiled – but the second she opened that mouth to speak, it became less attractive.

Anzu didn't speak like normal single women, Malik discovered almost immediately. She was brash, not at all afraid to speak her mind. She was cruel, with a sharp tongue and a... odd sense of humor. She seemed to enjoy teasing others. All this Malik had learned in the last five minutes he had been in her presence, and he was completely blown away.

"_What did you say_?"

Malik's eyes widened as the brunette rose from her chair, her arms shaking slightly as she gripped the silky material of the tablecloth. He blanched and glanced up at her, expecting to see an enraged expression on her face. He ended up being surprised again, though; her eyes looked haunted, and were slowly filling with tears.

The Egyptian felt like smacking himself on the forehead. How could he have said that out loud? He was such an idiot. Sure, he didn't really care for Anzu so far, but to bring her to tears made him seem like such an asshole, and that really wasn't the impression he hoped to have on people when first meeting them.

"I-I, um..." Malik fumbled over his words, trying to say something to stop her silent whimpering. He reached across the table and grasped her hand lightly, hoping that the action would be regarded as comforting or apologetic. "I-I didn't mean –"

She wrenched her hand free of his and brought it up to her chest, clamping her fingers around the gray material of her shirt. "Shut up. I don't care what you have to say, you have no business to say it. You know _nothing_ about me, about my life." With her other hand she hurriedly wiped her face dry, accidentally smudging her mascara a tad in the process. She sniffled silently and sent the Egyptian the fiercest glare he had ever received in his life and then stooped down to retrieve her purse and other belongings from under the tables.

"I don't know why I ever agreed to this stupid date," she muttered to herself.

Malik picked up on how choked her voice was even though she was trying her hardest to conceal the fact that she was still crying. He felt his heart drop considerably and he stood up from his chair, a truly sorrowful look on his face.

"Anzu... I honestly didn't mean..." His voice trailed off when he saw she wasn't listening.

Anzu wrapped her scarf around her neck and slung her purse over her shoulder. Casting one last, cold look at her date, she stalked past him and out the door.

Malik sighed loudly and placed a hand to his forehead, closing his eyes for a brief second and then opening them just in time to see the brunette walking briskly past the large windows of the elegant restaurant he was still standing in. His lavender eyes softened slightly as he watched her go, and then grew slightly as he realized something.

She had made it snow outside.

* * *

In apartment complex 305 the sound of a door slamming could be heard echoing down the corridors of the fifth floor as Anzu Mazaki entered her apartment, tears blurring her vision slightly. She dropped her purse right on the floor mat which she stood on before taking a small step forward. 

Suddenly another wrack of sobs shook through her body, causing her to stumble back to the door and lean against it heavily. The tears came down more heavily this time, and she cried them out silently, allowing her body to slide down the frame of the door until she was kneeling on the floor.

She was chastising herself for her own stupidity. She knew that something like this would happen, it always did. No one understood her, and they always jumped to conclusions as to the reasons for her never dating before – she had been pinned as a lesbian, as a man-hater, as a woman strictly devoted to God, and as a woman just scared of commitment to another – all of which were very untrue.

Anzu had her own very private reasons for living life alone. And there was nothing, or no one, that could change that.

She sniffled and placed a hand to the collar of her shirt, slowly pulling it down. As the material slipped off of her skin and past her shoulders a large scar became visible, stretching from left shoulder to the exact spot where her heart laid beating underneath her skin.

At once a horrible memory of her childhood came flying to Anzu's memory, of when she was young and didn't have words to explain what had happened to her. She sniffled and covered her chest again, shivering and wrapping her arms around herself for comfort.

A single tear dropped from her cheeks and she made no effort to wipe it away. Her eyes hardened and she glared at the floor mat accusingly.

'_You're no different, Malik Ishtar. You're no different than any other man... no different than _him_."

* * *

A/N: Well, Malik sure screwed up. And what's Anzu hiding? You'll have to wait and see, sorry. Please review!_


	4. Beautiful Lie

_A/N: Thanks you for all of the reviews! Sorry this chapter took a while to get out!_

_Warnings: Swearing, AU, and mild (if any) shonen-ai._

_Disclaimer: Must I repeat myself? I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh! _

_

* * *

_

_**Important Characters:** _

_**Malik Ishtar** - 23 years old; youngest of the Ishtar siblings._

_**Bakura Hideyoshi** - 24 years old; Malik's best friend since Jr. High, he's 'in love' with Malik's sister, Isis._

_**Mai Kujaku** - 24 years old; friend of Bakura, roommate of Ryou. She is the matchmaker._

_**Ryou Tanaka** - 22 years old; café employee, roommate of Mai, distant friend of Anzu. Has a crush on- more like an obsession with - Bakura._

_**Anzu Mazaki** - 22 years old; friend of Ryou; dreams of becoming a dancer. Has a grudge against men for some unknown reason._

_**Mariku Ishtar** - 24 years old; second oldest of the Ishtar siblings. Has a grudge against Malik and is a womanizer._

_**Isis Ishtar-Mutou** - 25 years old; eldest of theIshtar siblings, married to Atemu Mutou._

_**Atemu Mutou** - 25 years old; husband of Isis; childhood friend of Anzu's._

_**Malik's ex-girlfriend** - 23 years old. Her name is currently unknown by all except for Malik, Mariku, and Bakura. Presumably she ran off with Mariku after breaking up with Malik - or maybe she had hooked up with him even before the breakup. She'll be referred to as She/Her.

* * *

_

_Love Me if You Can_

**-Chapter Four-

* * *

**

After the disastrous blind date of Malik and Anzu, it snowed nonstop for three whole days. The entirety of Domino City was plunged into a seemingly never-ending blizzard, and Malik couldn't help but feel somewhat responsible as he looked out his bedroom window on the fourth morning, expecting sunshine, only to be greeted with nothing other than the color white. Of course he knew that it was absolutely impossible for Anzu herself to create a snowstorm – he didn't believe in magic or anything childish like that – but he still blamed the bad weather on her poor conduct during their meeting.

And despite the fact that he only reflected on her very negatively, Malik was bothered to discover that he could not push Anzu from his thoughts. It was as if she cursed his mind, as well as the city. For three whole days – four now, as a new day had just begun – her face, tear-stained and flushed with anger, had permeated his mind, and he could not seem to get rid of the vision.

"She had it coming to her," Malik said to Bakura, crossing his arms over his chest and seating himself down on the brown leather sofa of his living room. "I mean, she was a total bitch – spewing insults at me every chance she got to."

Bakura, who had grown tired of hearing his best friend speak of nothing besides Anzu Mazaki (even though he was the one whose brilliant idea it had been to set them up in the first place,) allowed his head to loll backwards and his eyes to fall shut.

"What's the big deal? _I_ spew insults at you whenever I get the chance," he said in defense of Anzu. "You're just very easy to pick on, Ishtar."

The blonde Egyptian fumed, glaring over at Bakura. "But you're my best friend. I've known you for years, so I hardly care if you say something about me. But her... You'd think she wouldn't act so rudely when meeting someone for the first time!"

"Technically," Bakura interjected, "it was your second time meeting her, since you nearly ran her over with your stupid motorcycle on the night before your date."

"...Whatever My point is that people – _normal_ people – don't behave that way in front of others."

The white-haired man turned his attention to the clock on the wall; the ticking of the second hand seeming to fascinate him more than the discussion he was having with his best friend. He made no effort to respond to the remarks Malik continued to make, letting himself fall into a dreamlike state.

"Bakura..! Bakura, are you listening to me?"

Mumbling out a response, Bakura refused to fully awaken from his half-consciousness. He was forced to unclose his eyes and scowl at Malik, however, when he felt a pillow connect with the side of his face. Growling, he took hold of the pillow and chucked it back at his best friend with a much greater force than Malik had thrown it at him.

"Will you stop messing around? I'm being serious here!"

Bakura groaned. "I've heard you complain about Anzu for the past three days. I don't want to hear it anymore, Ishtar. So she insulted you and walked out on your date. Big deal. Stop crying over it. God, I'm so sick of hearing your complaining."

Malik huffed indignantly, wrapping his arms loosely around the pillow that the white-haired man had threw back at him. "_Sorry_," he apologized sarcastically. "If you're so annoyed with this discussion, then I'll change the subject."

"Thank the Lord."

The Egyptian male thought a moment, wondering what to bring up. His lips split into a wicked grin when something perfect came to mind, and he pinned Bakura with his sly, narrowed lilac orbs.

"So... how did your night with Ryou go?"

It took a moment for Malik's words to register in Bakura's mind, but when they did, the young man bolted into an upright position, his dark-chocolate eyes wide as they gazed back over at the blonde. "W-what are you talking about, Ishtar?" he demanded to know. "What night?"

Malik chuckled. "The night that I went on my blind date with Anzu, you and Ryou went out together, right?"

Bakura rolled his eyes, leaning back against the cushions of the sofa and attempting to look nonchalant. "Ha! Ryou only wishes. I would never go out alone with that little fruitcake."

"Hmm... Well, that's odd, because he told me that the two of you spent a rather cozy evening in the backseat of your car that night – getting very _friendly_ with one another." Malik smirked, seeing the color drain from his best friend's face and taking that to be verification of Ryou speaking the truth. "Care to explain how that happened?"

Grumbling out an incoherent response, the white-haired man quickly averted his eyes to the ground where he stared in absolute wonder at his toes. "I, uh, was intoxicated," he said to clarify that whatever he had done with Ryou he had not done in his right mind. "_Very_ intoxicated."

"So something _did_ happen between you, then?"

Bakura swallowed the lump in his throat, his cheeks turning redder by the second, and tugged at the collar of his T-shirt. "We, uh, might have swapped some spit," he admitted slowly. "But, like I said, I was so drunk... uh, I thought he was a woman."

Malik doubled over in laughter, which caused Bakura to jump up from the couch and glower at him.

"It's not that hard a mistake to make! I mean, the guy's very feminine!" he defended himself in a shrill voice.

Trying hard to stifle his sniggering, the blonde Egyptian placed a hand over his mouth. "Sure, sure. I bet you thought he was Isis, right? Because the two look _so_ similar."

"Sh-shut up!" Bakura yelled, angry at how flustered he was getting over the situation. He wasn't one to get embarrassed easily – but, damn it, he wasn't gay! Or, at least he didn't think he wasn't. "Should I remind you that you scared away your own blind date?"

Malik frowned, reverting back to his earlier argument. "She had it coming to her!"

Although relieved that the conversation had steered away from his evening in the car with Ryou, Bakura was annoyed to find that they were back where they started. Groaning loudly, he fell back onto the couch he had stood from and grabbed the nearest cushion, placing it over his head.

Malik didn't seem to notice, as he had begun ranting once again.

* * *

Malik didn't know exactly how he arrived there – he vaguely remembered calling Ryou and asking for directions, but couldn't think of why. All he knew was that he was now standing outside of the grubby apartment complex in which Anzu Mazaki lived. Again, he couldn't understand his own reason for being there, but now that he was standing outside, gazing up at the building like an idiot, he decided it would be best if he went up to her house and personally apologized for his actions from the previous night – even though there was still a nagging side of him who believed he had done absolutely nothing worth apologizing for.

He still firmly believed that she had, in every way, deserved the insult he accidentally let slip past his lips, however he figured that telling her he didn't mean it would clear his conscience. And, who knows, if she was a forgiving person – which, from the brief time he had spent with her the previous night, he gathered that she wasn't – the deed would be done and over with quickly and he could return home to wallow in his own misfortune. If she wasn't, he would most likely still return home to wall in his own misfortune, but he would probably be a lot less sober and a lot angrier at the world.

When he decided that he had been standing outside in the cold for long enough, Malik gathered his courage and rang the buzzer. For several moments, his only answer was silence. Then a small laugh broke through the still air.

"Finally! I thought you'd have gotten here earlier," Anzu's voice told him through the intercom.

Malik blinked, slightly puzzled at this response. Had Anzu been expecting him to come over and apologize?

"I'll let you up."

A soft clicking noise proved her statement true, for a short time later he was allowed entrance into the apartment complex.

Malik headed straight for the elevator and, once inside, punched the correct floor number. The elevator hummed loudly, its gears turning to lift it up the shaft. It was probably the most nerve-wracking experience of his life – Malik could hear his own heart thudding rhythmically in his ears as he watched the numbered buttons above the metal doors light up a dull green color whenever they passed another level of the building.

After what seemed to be an eternity, the elevator slowed to a noisy stop and its doors automatically creaked open. Glad for his chance at freedom, the Egyptian exited into the hallway and then glanced at the directory that greeted him.

"Mazaki... Mazaki... Aha!"

Malik's thumb traveled from her surname to the number of her apartment.

'_520'_

It only took a few moments to find the correct door, seeing as there were only four to choose from. He stood before the door and gulped before tentatively raising a hand and knocking twice.

"Coming!"

Malik waited, tapping his foot on the tiled floor and picking imaginary lint off of his black sweatshirt. His lilac eyes turned to the door as he heard it open and he greeted Anzu with a nervous smile.

Whoever Anzu had been expecting to show up at her apartment, it definitely wasn't him – which Malik discovered as soon as the brunette's face contorted into an agitated scowl.

"What are _you_ doing here?" she demanded to know.

Feeling incredibly unwelcome, Malik crossed his arms over his chest and met her glare evenly. "You let me up," he reminded her.

"I didn't know it was you. If I had, I probably would have just called security," she replied.

"Then who were you waiting for?"

"Someone more important than you."

Malik couldn't stop the grin from spreading across his face at the weak insult. "Ouch."

Anzu huffed at his evident sarcasm and reverted back to her original question. "So why are you here?"

Sighing loudly, the Egyptian dropped his hands to his sides in defeat. "I... asked Ryou for directions to your apartment. I just wanted to come and apologize about the other night. That whole comment I made about why you were still single... it was uncalled for and I'm sorry for saying it." Seeing her slightly shocked expression made him continue. "I really didn't mean it."

After a few moments of silence, Anzu cleared her throat and turned her eyes to look at the ground. "Well, um... Thank you, Mr. Ishtar," she said, speaking to him as if he were a sort of business client or something, "I suppose most people would say it was very considerate of you to come all the way down here to make an apology, and I'd have to agree with them somewhat. But," she paused a moment and pinned him with her fiercest frown; it proved to be effective as he took a small step away from her. "That doesn't excuse the fact that you still said it. I don't like people who judge me before they know me, Mr. Ishtar. Do you know why that is?"

Malik opened his mouth to say something, but Anzu answered her own question before he even had the chance to.

"—because, to put it simply, people are idiots and they always hurriedly leap to conclusions about others instead of actually spending the time to get to know those around them. That's why." She pointed a finger at him accusingly. "You, Mr. Ishtar, are first-hand proof of this idiocy. You didn't know the first thing about me and yet you jumped at the chance to make crude guesses about my love life – or lack thereof, as you so _kindly_ reminded me."

Malik's jaw dropped, his eyes resembling saucers as he stared in disbelief at the brunette young woman before him. He blinked several times, trying to find something to say that could prove her theory to be incorrect; he couldn't think of anything.

"Well?" Anzu demanded, tapping her foot impatiently against the tiled floor. "Aren't you going to say anything? Try to redeem yourself?"

"I have no idea what I can say..."

'_...Other than you're a complete psycho.'_

Malik thought over that for a moment, suddenly allowing a smile to spread across his face as he considered the irony. All his life he had befriended those that other people considered to be 'weird' or 'psychotic' – such as Bakura, for example – and he had always enjoyed their companionship (most of the time, at least.) Anzu, as well, seemed to have a few loose screws in her brain, and Malik didn't think he could handle her company for longer than a few minutes. But perhaps that could change. Maybe, if he actually did take the time to get to know her better, they could become friends. If Malik could befriend Bakura, and remain friends with him for over seven years, then he could get along with anyone – even Anzu Mazaki.

It was worth a try. Besides, it's not as if the Egyptian had much of a life these days.

Anzu seemed to be disturbed by the grin on his face, for her lips twitched downwards in confusion.

"I'm sorry," Malik finally said, overcoming the silence that had fought its way between them. "I know there's nothing I can say that will erase what I said the other night at dinner, but please trust me when I tell you I didn't mean it. I was hoping that you would be able to forgive in forget so that we can start over. Strange as it sounds, I'd like a chance to get to know you better... maybe become friends."

"Friends..?" Anzu repeated flatly, apparently not as enthused by the idea as the blonde before her was.

"Yes, friends. I'd like to be your friend."

She seemed to contemplate this for a moment, raising a hand to her chin and tapping her fingers thoughtfully against her bottom lip. After what felt like forever, she opened her mouth to answer, her peach-colored lips curving to form the first syllable of her answer – which looked as if it were going to be a 'no' – but no sound came out. Instead, she had closed her mouth again and opted for studying his face for a moment, searching his unique lavender eyes for some kind of sincerity that could dictate whether or not she wanted to change her response; she found it hidden well behind the lilac swirls.

"You're a strange one," she said finally, quirking a smile herself, "so I'll think about it."

Malik's face faulted somewhat at the response. From what he had learned in past relationships, 'I'll think about it' almost certainly meant 'not a chance'.

"Is that all?" Anzu asked. "Because I really am expecting someone."

"Oh, uh... yeah, I guess that's all."

"Good. You can escort yourself to the elevators, then."

Malik nodded, but wouldn't leave until he had asked one more thing, since it had been bugging him since he first arrived. "Say, who are you waiting for?"

The brunette sighed, exasperatedly placing her head in the palm of her right hand and wondering if he would ever go away. "That's really none of your business, Mr. Ishtar," she replied, keeping her voice calm.

The platinum-haired young man held up a hand in objection. "Please, call me Malik. We're friends now."

"But we won't be for very long if you don't go away," she countered, not able to fight back the smirk that her lips split into.

"Fine, fine, I'll leave. But... there is one last thing I wanted to tell you. I just remembered."

Anzu looked at him expectantly, leaning against the doorframe and waiting for him to continue. Malik stalled, receiving the response he had been hoping for – she edged closer to him in subtle anticipation, her agitated façade remaining on her face.

"..Well, the first time I ever saw you was the other day at the grocery store, and I must admit... you looked exceptionally pretty standing next to that stand of English muffins in the dairy aisle."

She gaped at him, dumbfounded. Of all the things she had been expecting to hear, that had definitely been one of her guesses. Narrowing her eyes slightly, she made a sharp gesture towards the elevators and snapped; "Get away from my apartment. And if you ever try wooing me again with stupid crap like that, I won't be your friend anymore!"

Malik burst out laughing at the threat she placed in her sentence. Anzu flushed in embarrassment herself when she realized how juvenile she sounded. She couldn't help but laugh at herself. The Egyptian noticed that her eyes sort of twinkled when she laughed, and that a small dimpled appeared on each of her cheeks when her lips stretched up into a real smile.

"What?" he said. "I was telling the truth!"

She chuckled, hardly sounding angry as she spoke next. "Just go away, will you? God, it takes you like twenty minutes to say goodbye."

Grinning, he waved and turned, departing the apartment complex in a rather bright mood. Maybe he wouldn't have to go home and wallow in his own misfortune after all. Right now, things seemed to be looking up.

* * *

"So you don't hate her anymore?" Bakura mused, leaning back against the booth of the café he and his best friend sat in.

Malik shook his head. "No. I mean, she is a total bitch with the way she's all sarcastic all the time, but I guess she's pretty funny too." He chuckled to himself, raising his coffee mug to his lips and taking a long sip.

Bakura merely raised a hand in the air, beckoning a waitress over. He caught the attention of a young purple-haired girl and she came scurrying over, ready with a pencil and paper in hand to take his order.

"We went to dinner again last night, sort of to make up for the whole blind date disaster. It was very casual, we just went as friends."

"What?" the russet-eyed young man asked, eyes bugging slightly. "That's where you were last night?"

Malik gave his friend a strange look. "Yeah, why?"

Bakura glared. "Last night was _only_ our month-annual _guys' night out_! No girlfriends – no Ryou – just the two of us and the hottest clubs, and hottest women, downtown. How could you have_ forgotten_ that? It's our tradition!"

The purple-haired waitress stared at the table uncomfortably. "Bakura" – she only knew the white-haired man by name because of her fellow employee, Ryou, who spoke of no one other than Bakura during his work hours – "are you going to order something or not?"

"No. Go away, little girl." He shooed her impatiently with the same hand he had used to call her over.

Giving a huff of disdain, the girl marched back to her original position behind the counter, disgruntled over being summoned for nothing. "Jerk," she mumbled under her breath.

Malik sighed, taking another sip of his drink. "I don't know, 'Kura. It just slipped my mind. Why do you care so much, anyways? It's not that big of a deal."

"Easy for you to say, Ishtar," his friend interjected. "You didn't have to spend half your night at Ryou's crummy apartment playing chess and then having him drag you to go out and see _Brokeback Mountain_!"

The sandy-haired Egyptian blinked. "You actually agreed to see that?" he asked, sniggering at the idea.

"Of course not!" Bakura yelled, perturbed by the though, slamming his fist down on the table. The coffee that filled his mug sloshed agitatedly over the rim and into the saucer underneath. "He tricked me, that little English devil. Told me we were going to go watch _V for Vendetta_/"

"You didn't have to stay," Malik pointed out.

"He probably would have start crying, or something girlish like that," Bakura complained.

"Well, I'm very sorry you had to spend your night so miserably," Malik said with hardly any detectable sincerity.

Bakura grumbled under his breath in a poor-sported way, shifting and kicking his feet up onto the table. Behind the main counter, the purple-haired employee glared sourly at him. The Egyptian across from the albino lifted an eyebrow in silent question.

"You know," Malik began again thoughtfully, setting his mug on the table to the left of one of Bakura's obtrusive feet. His thoughts were still settled on the relationship between his best friend and the other white-haired boy. "You and Ryou have been spending an awful lot of time together lately."

Bakura's form stiffened, as it typically did whenever his and the younger albino's 'relationship' –if one could call it that - was mentioned. "Yeah... that a problem for you?"

Malik shook his head. "No, no, it's not a problem at all. I just find it a little funny, that's all."

"How so..?"

"Well," the blonde shrugged, "it's just that I've always been under the impression that you couldn't stand him."

"I _can't_ stand him!" Bakura affirmed in a much harsher tone than was necessary. "He's whiny, annoying, feminine... klutzy, brainless... useless... worthless..." his voice trailed off as he shook his head, before repeating, "I can't stand him."

"He loves you, though," Malik stated the obvious.

"And that's exactly why he's brainless!" Bakura yelled, recalling one of the names he had just accused Ryou of being. "I mean, do I look like a faggot?"

Malik rolled his eyes. "No, but you sound like a lunatic. Now shut up; you're only drawing attention to yourself."

"I'm serious, Malik. Why the hell is he so obsessed with me? It's not like I've ever been exceptionally nice to him – I'm not nice to anyone except maybe you and Isis. What could I have possibly done to be cursed with his affections?"

"Cursed?"

Bakura nodded solemnly. "Of course it's a curse. The guy is obsessed with me. He practically stalks me everywhere I go, and always tries to make up excuses for us to go places together. It's annoying as piss."

"I don't know, I think it's pretty funny."

The white-haired young man growled. "Yeah? Well you know what I think?" He paused, waiting for a reaction. Malik leaned forward over the table expectantly. "I think that Mazaki chick has seriously fucked up your mind. Ever since you became friends – or whatever you two are –you've been acting totally different. And that isn't funny."

Malik sighed, not arguing. He had changed, and he himself knew it. He was so much more... passive now than he used to be. Nothing really seemed to bother him lately.

The doors to the café swung open, revealing none other than the object of their current discussion – Ryou. The albino was donned in a pair of faded and stylishly distressed jeans and a navy polo. He pulled his work apron on over his head and covered the outfit to make sure it would stay clean while he worked. With a cheerful smile he greeted the purple-haired girl behind the counter, who waved in response. He made to join her, but stopped immediately upon spotting Bakura in one of the side booths.

"Baku-chan!" he cried excitedly, running over to the table.

Bakura groaned loudly, placing his feet back on the ground. He jumped as the younger male enveloped him in a tight hug and kissed him on the cheek while proclaiming how much he had missed him. Agitated, Bakura pushed the other away.

"Lay off, will you? Damn it, you're like a hyper little girl."

Ryou immediately calmed down. "I'm sorry, Baku-chan-"

"-Don't call me that!"

"...It's just that I've missed you."

Bakura glared daggers at the albino, whose shoulders slumped in a very depressed fashion. Angled russet eyes observed the smaller male, and softened slightly as Bakura raked a hand through his disheveled hair. "Whatever," he said, in a far gentler voice than before. "You just saw me last night."

Ryou perked up seeing as Bakura was no longer yelling at him. As he was about to say something, Malik stood up abruptly from the table and caught his attention. "Oh, Malik, I didn't know you were here too. It's nice to see you again," he said politely, smiling.

Malik nodded his head in greeting. "Yes, well, I think I'll show myself out... let you two be alone for a bit." He took out his wallet and placed several bills on the table for the purple-haired waitress. "See you guys later."

Bakura flashed him a warning look, silently begging him not to leave. The Egyptian took no heed of the unspoken pleas, merely chuckling as his best friend cursed him loudly enough for half the café to overhear, and strode over to the doors. The tinkle of the doorbell chimed as he exited.

Ryou watched the blonde go before turning his focus back on Bakura. "You know, you really shouldn't keep it a secret anymore," he said, tone serious for once.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"It's even worse to lie to yourself."

"Shut up! I don't need you lecturing me."

"But you _do_ need me for other things?"

The russet-eyed man blinked, closing his mouth before he could respond with a smart retort. Ryou had him there. Bakura honestly didn't say that he didn't need Ryou – he could tell that to Malik, or any of his other friends, but he couldn't lie to himself about that – but hell would freeze over before he ever admitted that to Ryou. Snorting immaturely, he crossed his arms over his chest.

"Don't you have a job to do?"

Ryou smiled and nodded his head, wiggling his fingers in a very overenthusiastic wave goodbye before going to take his rightful position behind the counter. Bakura scoffed, watching the younger man's back, and then propped his feet back on the tabletop once more. He exhaled loudly, tipping his head back to stare at the ceiling.

He couldn't help but wonder if he really had been lying to himself about his true feelings.

'_No... I've been so involved with the whole finding Malik a new girlfriend business that I've let my own loneliness get the better of me. That's the only reason I've been hanging around with Ryou. The _only_ reason.'_

Bakura was satisfied with this reckoning.

* * *

_A/N: Ah yes, Bakura is in denial. Teehee. Please review, if you can! _


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